Decorate
by trulyLA
Summary: Luna and Neville. Songfic/One-shot. Please read!


**Here's a little one-shot on Neville/Luna. Songfic- Based on Decorate by Yuna.**

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><p><strong>So you decided to see me out of the blue<strong>  
><strong>Should I let you come over<strong>  
><strong>I think you're doing fine<strong>  
><strong>That girl in your arms<strong>  
><strong>Does she know where you come from<strong>

Luna had been sitting at her kitchen table one Wednesday morning. The kitchen in her loft was quaint, with yellow walls. The floor, countertops, and appliances were all white and gleaming. On the far wall there was a Crumple Horned Snorkack and a few rare paintings. Looking over her kitchen, Luna notices a small, light brown owl at the window. She stood and allowed it in, giving it a treat before she took the letter.

She wasn't familiar with this owl, and she knew all of her friends' owls. She opened the unaddressed letter that the bird gave her, curious as to who sent it.

_Luna,_

_I know it's been a while, but I think we should meet up for coffee or something. We could catch up a bit. Let me know what you can do._

—_Neville_

She stared at the signature for a solid two minutes, thinking about what this letter said.

Neville wanted to see her again. Surely it can't mean anything more than friends, he has a wife now. A perfectly lovely, perfectly sane wife. Why would he want Luna, when he can have Hannah?

It had been two years, and she was just getting used to her lonely life. Ever since they went their separate ways, she missed him. Luna moved to her loft shortly after their split, sick of the old apartment reminding her of Neville. He married the next year, to Hannah Abbott, who was surely better for him than Luna would be. Hannah was normal, Luna wasn't. And normal was a good thing.

Sighing, she decided that she could face him. It would break her heart all over again, but she could handle it. She'd done it for two years, what's another year of sorrow going to harm? She scribbled back a confirmation, and told him that he could come over the next day. After all, she would need time to _make_ it look like she had control in her life.

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><p><strong>You left your things at my place<strong>  
><strong>As if I have all the space<strong>  
><strong>Cause you know I don't mind<strong>  
><strong>Just come back when you think it's time<strong>

Today, he would come. Neville was probably on his way, and she still had puffy bags under her eyes from crying all night. Her loft was immaculately clean, but empty, almost. Of course, she knew what was lacking. Him. If only he was coming, exhausted from work, to unwind with a cup of coffee, then go to sleep in their bed, with her in his arms. But, no. That's what Hannah was for— his love.

The doorbell jolted Luna from her musings. _Oh no,_ she thought,_ he's here._ She got up slowly and made her way over to the dark maple door, putting a smile on her face as she did so.

"Neville," she said, her voice overly joyful.

"Luna," was the reply. "Hi."

She awkwardly let her ex-lover inside, while looking him up and down. He looked good. The same, actually. Maybe a little more stressed, but for the most part there were no changes.

"So…" she trailed off, wondering what to say. "Coffee?"

"Uhm, yes, please."

They made their way to the bright kitchen. It looked like the bright walls almost surged energy into the two. Luna made him coffee, as he sat at the table.

"So, Neville. What are you doing now? I mean you had that apprenticeship, but did it go anywhere?"

"Oh, uhm, yes, it did. I started as the Herbology professor at Hogwarts last September," he said, now confidant since he was talking about something he knew.

"How nice," Luna replied absentmindedly, thinking of how they could be now if they didn't go separate ways.

"Luna," he broke the short silence, seriousness in his voice. "How are you?"

"Oh… Good. Yeah, I'm good."

"Luna," he repeated. "I'm not daft. How are you?"

"I'm fine," she answered, so quiet she was almost inaudible.

"No, you aren't."

"Well, I really must get back to my.. uhm, work. I'm sorry but you'll have to leave," she quickly said, tears gleaming in her eyes.

"Okay… Bye. I'll write you, then," and with that Neville was out the door.

Luna looked down. His coat was sitting gently on the arm of her red sofa. "Hmm," She mumbled to herself. "Now he'll need to see me again."

Maybe he will write like he said, she thought. Maybe, just maybe, they'd be friends. Or he'd come back to her. Sighing, she remembered Hannah, that lucky girl.

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><p><strong>Finding reasons to hate you more than before<strong>  
><strong>Like how you said you would call<strong>  
><strong>But never at all<strong>  
><strong>Got rid of your number that I know by heart<strong>

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Neville's visit and no letter. Well, no letter from him, anyway.

Luna wrote three letters a day. One went to her father, who always wrote back that same day. The next was for Harry, one of her best friends, who'd been helpful when she got terribly upset. And the last, Neville. For three weeks, she wrote a letter to him every day. Twenty-one letters were stacked up in the back corner of her desk, but not one of them got sent.

He told her. He said he'd write her, but she supposed that he had to get busy with it being the last week of August already. Still, he said he would. And he didn't.

Her heart was breaking, more than before. More than when they split, and more than when he came to visit. Neville never— _never_— told her anything with no fact or feeling behind it. He never lied to her.

Luna was sick of seeing those letters every day, just waiting for a reason to send one. Finally, after twenty-one letters were written, she decided. Today she would burn them all. Forget about him, he has Hannah. She needs to move on, and it's about time. She walked into her blue walled living room and started the fire place. Sitting down on her bright red sofa, she untied the string she kept her letters in. One by one, she threw the letters. Watching them burn, each and every one of them.

Soon she was done, and felt… lighter. She wanted to do something, but what?_ I suppose,_ she though,_ I could go to the supermarket for some wrackspurt repellent._

When she opened the door to leave her loft, she almost ran into someone. Someone who had a very large box in their hands. He set down the box to reveal a tall man with medium length dirty blonde hair.

"Oh, sorry," the mysterious man said. "I just moved in. My name's Rolf Scamander. And yours?"

"Luna. Luna Lovegood," she replied, and shook his hand.

"Well, Luna Lovegood, if you'd like, I'm almost done here, we could go grab coffee, and get to know each other. We are going to be neighbors after all."

To her own surprise, she found herself blushing at his statement. A date? This was just what she needed. A date with Rolf Scamander.

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><p><strong>Oh, and that's it. I hope you liked it. Please review! Please, please. If you read it, review! This is my first try at completing a story (even if it is a one-shot; I'm trying to build up). Thanks, loves!<strong>


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